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certain age. Do that and you’re ahead of the curve.’
    Bradley’s eyebrows all but disappeared into his hairline, but at least his death grip relaxed. ‘Who does she think people think
you
were? Her fan club?’
    Hannah laughed. Unexpectedly. She turned to find he was looking far more relaxed and less rock-like than she could ever have hoped. And as she turned his hand slipped further around her waist. Her breath went AWOL.
    ‘Relax,’ he murmured, leaning closer. ‘You are so wound up you’re actually beginning to scare me just a little. Don’t panic. Mothers love me.’
    She shot him a look of despair.
‘That’s
not the problem. I mean, look at you. I have no doubt my mother will adore you.’
    A muscle twitched beneath his eye and his mouth lifted into a sexy half-smile. ‘You think I’m adorable?’
    ‘To the tips of your designer socks,’ she said, her voice as blank as she could manage. ‘And, just for the record, along with
tall
men who
own
private jets my mother also adores rhinestones, tight pink cardigans and fruity cocktails with little umbrellas in them.’
    The second the words were out of her mouth she regretted them. But it wasn’t as though she never ribbed the guy. Working sixty-hour weeks a girl had to have a sense of humour. And he was oak-like enough to take it.
    But comparing him with rhinestones …?
    Maybe it was the comfy outfit. Maybe it was giving her brain cells a day off from the blowdryer. Or maybe her body had gone into some kind of holiday-mode shutdown. Either way, her tongue had come dangerously loose.
    So dangerously Bradley’s hand slid even further—till it rested possessively on her hip, till his little finger slid between T-shirt and jeans and found skin. A silent signal that if she went one step too far she was at his mercy. As a comeback it was effective. Debilitatingly so.
    Hannah was so tense she was practically vibrating.
    She didn’t have time to think before Virginia was upon them, long hair swinging like a shampoo commercial, high heels clacking loudly on the asphalt.
    Then her mother’s eyes zeroed in on the lack of sunlight between the two of them. Hannah wished she was wearing work stilettos so she could have kicked her boss in the shin.
    ‘Hannah! Darling!’ Virginia’s eyes were gleaming, her arms outstretched, and she was looking Bradley up and down as though he was a two-hundred-dollar Hobart Bay lobster even while she reached out for the daughter she hadn’t seen for three years.
    Virginia’s arm wrapped around her none too gently just as Bradley’s hand slipped away. She gave in to one while missing the other.
    ‘Virginia,’ Hannah said. ‘It’s so nice of you to meet me, but you really shouldn’t have. This weekend of all weekends.’
    Over her mother’s shoulder Hannah saw Elyse hovering. Her chest pinched at the happy tears in her little sister’s bright green eyes.
    She mouthed,
Hi.
Elyse did the same.
    And then, in her ear, Hannah heard, ‘He’s very handsome.’
    Not even a whisper. An out-and-out declaration. Heck, even James the pilot, who was now taxiing Bradley’s jet down a nearby runway, had probably heard.
    ‘He’s my boss,’ Hannah blurted, just as loud. ‘Thus out of bounds. So leave him alone.’
    Elyse hid a shocked laugh behind a fake sneeze.
    Her mum pulled back and looked deep into her eyes with what looked like a flicker of respect. Wow. That was a first. Hannah’s chestsqueezed as she waited for … more. Sadness, poignancy, guilt, regret …
    Until Virginia took a step back, flounced a hand up and down Hannah’s form and said, ‘Jeans, Hannah? Must you always look like a bag lady?’
    And there you have it, folks. My mother.
    ‘My work means I fly a lot. All over the world, in fact. I’ve learnt it pays to be comfortable.’ She mentally blew a raspberry, not much caring that it made her feel five years old.
    Having said all she apparently felt the need to say, Virginia slid her eyes back to Bradley. In